


Freeze

by Aki_Saiko (saikowrites)



Series: Writober 2019 [4]
Category: Bravely Default (Video Game) & Related Fandoms
Genre: Agnes reflects on her journey and Edea, Avalanche of consciousness actually, Bravely Default spoilers until chapter 4, F/F, Inktober 2019, Missing Moments, Ringabel cant stand spicy food you cant change my mind, Stream of Consciousness, Writober 2019, freeze - Freeform, introspective
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-10-04
Updated: 2019-10-04
Packaged: 2020-12-01 20:54:17
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,471
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20896187
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/saikowrites/pseuds/Aki_Saiko
Summary: "Agnes startles and draws the snowball near her lips. She bites it and regrets immediately. Her teeth hurt as if someone smashed them, her head aches and chills won’t stop running through her body. Her tongue is frozen, but Edea is right: snow tastes like frozen rain with maybe some hints of… dust? But not salty, beyond any doubt."WRITOBER 2019 | Day 4: Freeze | Based on the official Inktober 2019 prompt list.





	Freeze

**Author's Note:**

> It's been years since I wrote something about Bravely and I come back with a pairing I don't even ship. BUT. A dear friend of mine gave me the prompt and helped me with the setting of this fic, so yeah. Thank you @ Einheria!

Beside her, Ringabel’s hands run to his mouth, his face on fire and his eyes squeezed shut, tears watering the corners. In front of him, Edea bursts out laughing, her loud voice mocks him for his non-existent endurance against Eternian-spicy flavours.

“This is insane” the boy complains “I don’t think I’ll ever be able to fully move my tongue again. What a disgrace to my life.”

“You’re the disgrace here, Ringabel. This is our famous game stew served with bread and fat, on a scale from one to ten I’d say its spiciness level scores only a five.”

“Five hundred, you mean. What I’d give to feel this heat not because of some spicy meat, but from the sweet embrace of a beautiful woman instead.”

Edea frowns and sighs. “You are, I’m quoting, ‘unacceptable’ Ringabel. Beyond redemption.”

Agnes giggles at the reference, and thanks Edea in her mind for her mushroom soup accompanied by toasted bread and cheese, the mildest spiciness in the inn menu. She takes a spoon of it in her mouth, hints of chili pepper itch her tongue, but it’s bearable. The warmth of spicy food spreads in her chest and onto her cheeks, her digits less stiff.

She stretches her hand a bit towards the lantern on the table, which irradiates a dim light that softens their tired eyes and tensed bodies. The candles are enclosed by thick glass on the sides, but the flame soothes her chapped hand, nonetheless. The skin is reddened and engraved with little cracks on the knuckles, despite all the effort she made to use a heavier pair of gloves.

She doubts she will ever get accustomed to a sharp cold like this one. Harena’s arid wind dried her lips and spread sand everywhere in her old, little room back at the Wind Temple, but she missed it ever since she had left for Caldisla.

The quarrel between Edea and Ringabel flows alongside the inn chattering in her hears. They argue about trivial topics, as they always do. Edea is still tormenting the boy, tapping on his bowl with her spoon, her own plate empty and ready for a refill. She pouts but Agnes can tell she’s not angry for real – or, she won’t be unless Ringabel is serious about not finishing his portion and wasting the food.

By that far in their journey, Edea’s short temper was common knowledge, but getting her offended was as easy as having her pardon: most of the time, any dessert was enough. Even just a chat about desserts sometimes – and some others, chats about desserts ended badly and marked the beginning of a five-hours silence war between Edea and Agnes.

Every religious in the Orthodoxy had always told Agnes that the Duchy of Eternia was dangerous, was to fight; that those people were heretics who used the power of the crystals in twisted ways. She believed them. She hated Edea and never, ever really trusted her. Every time Agnes made a step forward, Edea did or said or revealed something about her that caused Agnes to withdraw in no time.

And sure enough, Edea _was_ dangerous. She was loud, proud and reckless, often getting hit in battles in their stead, but always returning the attack with the interests. She was their fierce shield, counterattacking anyone who raised their weapons against the party. Because that was the point that Agnes came to understand when Edea had risked her life to help Tiz saving a kid who wasn’t even part of the mission: Edea could have been dangerous, but not to them. Not to _her_. They were a strange team, who had met by accident and had started the journey on the opposite of ‘good terms’, but their strength grew from their bond. And it was that bond that led them as far as near the last of the crystals.

Agnes had hated the Anticrystallism for the whole of her life before leaving the Temple, and for some time after it. They brought destruction and war. They haunted vestals. They called them _witches_.

The first time Edea addressed Agnes as ‘a black-hearted witch’, even without meaning it, Agnes had the urge to drop everyone right there in the Ruins of Centro Keep and go on her journey alone again.

But both the Orthodoxy and the Anticrystallism were wrong in their own way. They had both fought against each other with weapons and lies; that was clear enough, listening to Edea’s tales from her childhood and comparing them to the ones Agnes had heard. In a certain way, the two of them had always known the other, without really knowing her.

Agnes knew better about Edea now, and in the same way Edea knew better about her. No more lies, no more fake fairy tales: they all had a mission, and it was close to being accomplished.

Agnes eats the last bit of her soup, gaze still laid on Edea at the other side of the table, too busy talking with the maid and deciding what dessert she’s going to order to notice it.

“I think I need to get some fresh air” she says.

Edea turns her head towards her and points to a door at the opposite side of the room. “The inn has our back, so don’t go outside in the street alone! Use the backdoor, they have a nice tiny backyard.”

Agnes grabs her cloak, wears her gloves and heads outside.

The snow is soft and creaks under her boots, every other sound muffled by a thick white coat. Everything under the snow is silent and slow in a way she’d never seen before. It’s freezing, but it’s beautiful basking in that absolute quiet as if time has stopped flowing.

She sneezes and clutches her cape. She hasn’t figured out her opinion about cold, yet, but the snow already took a special place in her heart. It was like cotton, light as the clouds, gentle and graceful; at the same time, it was dangerous, slippery during fights and fatal during an avalanche. But what struck Agnes the most, was its colour: a white so pure, she’s been finally able to understand and picture the expression “white as the snow”.

Agnes crouches down and breaks that flawless coat by gathering some whiteness in her gloved hand. She turns it around in her hand until she shapes it in a little ball. She plays around with it, passing it between her hands. It’s nice to notice the sharp contrast between white snow and black gloves.

What had Edea told to her, back in the Ruins of Centro Keep? _‘What is black, and what is white? Your actions will tell me the color of your heart, vestal. And I plan to watch up close, so I suggest you get used to me!’_

Months have passed by, and Agnes has indeed gotten used to the other girl, troublesome personality and all. She couldn’t stand her at first, but now she fears that Edea might let them down after solving her problems with her family – if they could be solved at all. She was the only one who had a family to begin with, as Airy pointed out. But after all that happened, Agnes trusts Edea with her life.

The door squeaks, and the snow creaks a second time. Agnes turns back and finds Edea waiting at the entrance.

“We’re going upstairs and call it a day. You come with us?”

“In a minute” replies Agnes, her hand still playing with the snowball.

Edea takes a look at the ball and giggles. “You know, snow doesn’t quite have a taste.”

“Pardon?”

“Ringabel said snow is salty, but he was teasing. Snow is basically frozen rain, so if raindrops don’t have a flavour, why should the snow?”

Agnes startles and draws the snowball near her lips. She bites it and regrets immediately. Her teeth hurt as if someone smashed them, her head aches and chills won’t stop running through her body. Her tongue is frozen, but Edea is right: snow tastes like frozen rain with maybe some hints of… dust? But not salty, beyond any doubt.

Edea laughs at the puzzled look on Agnes’ face and motions her to follow. “C’mon, we have a big day waiting for us tomorrow.” Her smile only cracks a little.

“Will you be all right, Edea? We will have to break through the Duchy’s Central Command.”

“It will be tough, but I think I’m accustomed to it by now. Besides, proving my strength and honour to my father has been the reason why I left.”

“But you are helping me accomplish my mission, now. Circumstances have changed.”

Edea grins. “Our mission, Agnes.”

Agnes smiles and joins the other girl, already longing for some heat and comfortable bed.

“Thank you for staying by my side.”

**Author's Note:**

> Previous work in the collection: Persona 5 - ShuAke - Bait  
Next one in the collection will be: Pokémon (gameverse) - Ferriswheel shipping


End file.
